Michael the other Nightcrawler
by fudje
Summary: Nightcrawler has a partially disassociated identity, and he's on a mission. A mission to be bad And, incidentally, rebuild a family that never was. WandaKurt, maybe Romy later. Rated for concurrent sex n' violence.
1. Not the Beginning

**Michael**

_The Other Nightcrawler_

An _X-Men: Evolution_ Fanfiction by fudje. Well, close enough.  
Nightcrawler has a partially disassociated identity, and he's on a mission. A mission to be bad; And, incidentally, rebuild a family that never was.

I am sick of disclaimers, and they're pointless. No-one to whom it matters is going to read me telling them that I don't own their IP, and if they did decide to sue, saying "I said I didn't own it" holds no legal weight whatsoever. Fortunately, Marvel, the owners of _X-Men: Evolution_ and probably every character that's going to appear in this story, don't appear to be like that :·)

* * *

Not the beginning

You thought you had problems. I can't even begin to describe mine to someone who has so very little idea. I guess I'm going to have to try anyway.

I am Michael, or Nightcrawler if you prefer. Sis' once told me that Mother originally intended to call me that – I was to be Baron Michael Von Wagner, or failing that, Michael Darkholme. I named myself, because I'm sure Mother would have preferred if I, as Michael, became this as opposed to that tasteless and misguided 'fuzzy elf' they call Kurt Wagner. I don't even want to know how his parents found that supposed lineage. Mother was right to do whatever she did to her husband at the time; Although I probably could have done without her running to Magneto. I still wonder what it was that he did to me in that lab — I know now that my exceptional sexiness has nothing to do with it, but not even Mother knows truly what it was the man was doing to me. The question is, do I hold a sword to his throat, or ask Sis' to absorb him proper and tell me? If she'll do it; I guess I'll just have to wait until her true self comes shining through again. I know that inside she's not the do-gooder the X-Men all think her to be. Oh mother, if only you hadn't lied to her, and had pushed a _different_ geek off that cliff. For the day when we become one happy family….

Maybe it's better it happened like this anyway; Some part of me seems to believe that if I hadn't been raised as Kurt Wagner, I'd have been stuck in some old attic because Mother would be scared to take me out in public, hoping against hope that when my mutation developed beyond my physical appearance, it would include her shape shifting abilities. So much for that.

Any which way, I know now that it is my responsibility to bring our family together, despite that neither my sister nor my mother trust the other one, and despite that Kurt has given us a reputation for being a joker. And Mystique will not bend, oh no, so I have to become dark and twisted, which did not suit Kurt at all, and I must convince my sister Rogue to put more faith in our mother — which will be so difficult itself. As to how I achieve this, well perhaps you would prefer a more interesting story than me just telling you myself.

* * *

Wanda shivered as she walked the dark street. It had been warm enough when she'd set out, but in the space of a half hour or so a storm had moved in, covering the moon and, apparently, providing a power outage over several blocks, including the one that she was currently in. '_Perfect_' she thought sarcastically, '_Goes with the eerie glowing eyes I keep seeing._'

Indeed, the Scarlet Witch was sure that there was something out there following her, and she wasn't quite sure what. Every so often she'd see the glowing eyes near where the roofline should be, and every time she'd tell herself that it was probably her imagination. Or, it could be something else… beings that weren't entirely human were not exactly unheard of in her paradigm. She could probably deal with it, anyway.

A sheet of lightning illuminated the sky, and now her suspicions were confirmed. A demonic silhouette was perched above the building just ahead of her, though she felt she should know this one. A second flash just as she heard the rumble of thunder showed that he was gone. Wanda hexed a branch lying on the ground near by to come to her, and catching it caused the leaves on the end to burst into flame.

"Kurt?" she asked the air. "Kurt, is that you?"

The fire on the end of her makeshift torch was suddenly blown out, leaving her with a smouldering stick. The smoke rising from it was lit with a romantic if spooky glow. "Perhaps ja," whispered an accented voice by her left ear, "perhaps nein," by her right.

"Which is it, yes, or no?" she asked angrily, turning around and casting a hex bolt onto… nothing.

"Sometimes I am;" replied the voice, now behind her again, "But tonight, I am Michael."

"What's the difference?" asked Wanda, a smirk rising to her face. This was a distinction of the Nightcrawler she wasn't aware of.

'Michael' laughed darkly, and Wanda became aware of a more _physical_ presence behind her, which worried her slightly.

"What are you doing?" she asked nervously, "and why are you following me?"

"Because I want to," replied Nightcrawler, and Wanda's first question was answered as a pair of arms was wrapped around her waist at the same time as he snaked his tail around one of her legs.

"Just why do you 'want to?'" continued Wanda, her voice becoming shaky.

Michael rested his head upon the girl's shoulder, and looked sidelong and up at her, although she didn't know it by sight of his iris-free eyes. "I think you know ze answer to zat qvestion already," he confirmed, the twitching of his tail sending small vibrations up her leg. "but vhat you don't know yet, is zat you'll like it."

Wanda narrowed her eyes at this. "That's not for you to decide," she snarled, and rammed her elbow into his side, throwing him off her, spinning around to hex him….

It was the first time she'd noticed the sulphurous aportation so far, but that wasn't anywhere near as surprising as Nightcrawler somehow turning around mid-port so that when he reappeared a split second later, again behind the teen-aged girl, he was able to immediately reach around her again, this time restraining her arms. A flick of his tail and they were bound at the wrists. "Now, now, be good," he hissed, "or I'll take you somevhere not nice."

"_This_ is not nice," Wanda growled, fidgeting with her hands though unable to loosen Michael's grasp any. Deciding the exercise futile, she stopped struggling, and he actually let his grip slack so that there was blood flowing through them again. "Where were you planning on taking me otherwise?"

"Uttervise? Zat depends — Vhere do you vant to go with me?" Michael asked, now letting the subject of his attention's hands free.

"The only place I'm going with you is Hell!" Wanda yelled, moving to hurt her assailant's soft abdomen again.

She was too slow for the agile circus expatriate however, and she soon found her hands again bound, this time behind her back. Michael twisted her around in his arms, and then pulled her in so that their bodies were pressed together, his lips next to her ear. "Hell, you say?" He laughed darkly, before brushing his cheek back against hers, his tail twitching free of its grasp around her hands, and kissing her on the lips. He pulled back, and holding her shoulders in his hands, looked into Wanda's wide open eyes. "Zat can be arranged. Vell, something like it, anyvay. You may have to hold your breath, z'ough." His features betrayed a mischievous grin.

Wanda whimpered and tried to pull away, but realised that she was held tight by Nightcrawler's tail, wrapped around her waist and snaking its way up her back. Michael stroked her face with its spade as he moved in again for a longer kiss, and she felt the unfamiliar sensation that seemed like she was collapsing in on herself until she was so small as to be insignificant.

When he pulled away again, the sky was yellow. Wanda gasped as she saw the pools of magma, cringed at the sight of dragon creatures without wings, and was awed by the towers of rock laced with brimstone. The smell of sulphur was intoxicating, and she could only just breath. Her eyes were still widened in fright of Nightcrawler's alternative identity, but now she made no move to escape from him; Despite the fact that his hands and tail were now on the inside of her clothing, probing her in places that no man should go without a woman's consent, Michael seemed to her to be the least dangerous thing here. Quivering, she lay her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes as he began kissing her neck. "Take me back," she whimpered. Kurt nodded, and continued his assault upon her neck and private places as they left the place with a _bamf_.

* * *

When Pietro finally gave up and risked his life by breaking into his sister's room, he found her covered by nothing more than a single sweat-drenched sheet, staring up at the ceiling. Her heavy breathing was the only thing providing the silver-haired speedster with the comfort that Wanda was still alive — An expression of horror graced her eyes, but the rest of her was smiling; Michael had made better than good on his word. He had taken her to a very personal hell, and while there she had experienced greater pleasure than she could ever have imagined. She never wanted it to happen again, and yet couldn't wait for the Nightcrawler to come back.

She hadn't been the only one, either. At the Xavier Institute mansion, while everyone else was left wondering why she and Kitty hadn't turned up to Logan's early morning Danger room session, Rogue was burdened with the task of trying to get some kind of response out of her former roommate who had failed to phase into the southerner's room two hours earlier and shake her to consciousness. She had found the girl shivering, naked on the floor despite the cold, staring out the open window, her face radiant with excitement. The sparkle in her eye hadn't faded, and she had merely giggled when Rogue yelled at her. Now the window was shut, and Rogue had retrieved Kitty's blankets from where they were thrown on the floor and lain them over the girl's body, but still she just stared off into the distance, smiling her little smile that send any of a certain type of boy mad. Giving up after a half hour of zero response, she removed a glove and placed her uncovered hand on Kitty's forehead.

"Oh my god…."

* * *

Now that you're done marvelling, excuse the pun, at how I encapsulated my disclaimer in an expression of my disdain for disclaimers – Okay, I'll give you another thirty seconds if you didn't notice it already – you can review, provided you avoid the subject of how the first section of this chapter was completely disjoint from the second section. If you can, hit me with some ideas of what to do with Kitty — I pretty much know what I'm going to do with Wanda, but the Kitty thing was a plot device to get the others to have a clue as to what's going on. So, should I, like, make Kitty have an abortion, give someone a half-sibling, have her go insane and kill everyone, or just make her commit suicide, but like, fail miserably in the attempt, thereby confining herself to an air-chair for the rest of days?

It's 4:30am. The only part that I've proofread properly is the A/N section. Deal with it.  
I _will_ be updating my other stories soon enough (As in, immediately after the most recent plot details work themselves out).


	2. Mutter Von Unseren part I

So, here ve go, (on ze last und final road… Not really, but I can just see Kurt, perhaps Michael too, singing along to The Alpha Conspiracy's 'Accelerating.') Chapter two. In case you're wondering why Rogue said 'my,' not 'mah,' I just decided that doing Rogue's accent was stupid. At least when I do it, it is. Gloriously, the German in this story has been automatically translated from English by Google. Which probably means if I try anything more complicated than the title of this chapter, it'll screw up the grammar big time and translate half the words wrong. I know it sucks at French. So feel free to correct any German if you can speak it better than me (which pretty much means you know more than 'Ja' and 'Nein').  
Once more unto the breach!

* * *

Mutter Von Unseren  
(_Mother of Ours_)

I bet I know what yall're thinking. 'He'd never do something like that,' 'What did that have to do with Kurt turning evil?' 'Kiss me, chère,' et cetera, et cetera.  
Wait, 'Kiss me, chère?!' I'm gonna kill that dirty swamp rat….

Anyway, I hate to say it, but I didn't believe completely that Kurt was gonna stay the cute and fuzzy blue elf that he had been forever. Funny thing about this crap they call 'love' is that it makes you do stupid things. Dumb things. Crazy things. Like rescuing a low-down good-for-nothing thief from himself when he goes into an assassin's lair to steal his father, or in this case, to turn into the evil thing your own mother might have liked you to be.

Might. Call me a hypocrite, but I know for a fact that Mystique's not as downright evil as they all make her out to be. She cares about, well primarily about her self, which is petty I guess, but also about the survival of mutants as a race and especially about her family. She just makes bad decisions – gotta teach her one day to not take Destiny's visions either literally or as gospel. If it wasn't for that, I might think she had a better grip on reality than Xavier….

Anyway, I could always see something along these lines happening. Kurt, or Michael as he calls himself now, definitely loves his mother. I personally didn't exactly see him raping Kitty because of it, but maybe he just wanted to show that he wasn't a pushover, that he could be just as volatile as… us, I guess. Maybe he wanted everyone to know he wasn't on that side anymore. Maybe he had a personality transplant.

I don't know. With the stuff that had been going through Kitty's mind when he did it, maybe he was just sick of her hesitating? It's not like Amanda's opinion counted after what she did with Stefan¹.

* * *

"Alright, where is he?!"

Everyone looked up to see where Rogue was now standing, next to the chandelier, her head less than an inch from the roof. The fact that the ceiling in the rec-room was 20 feet from the floor didn't seem to faze anyone. They were all too busy noticing how the anger rolled off her like a heavy mist, mixing with the winds of concern and a light rain that was confusion. Because this was Rogue, pretty much everyone was preparing to duck for cover when the thunder of… _Rogue-ness_ materialised. Knowing that Storm had been one of the first mutants she'd absorbed, it was just as likely to exist on the physical plane.

"Where's who?" replied Scott, showing normal levels of bravado … or was it stupidity?

"The one of you who ain't here, duh," the southerner answered, flipping down to the floor. To the wonderment of everyone in the room who was receptive to a sense of foreboding, she didn't kill Cyclops on the way down. "My brother. Whom you might have noticed has developed a deep Bavarian accent and some behaviour very much unlike himself?"

"First, why don't you explain why you and half-pint weren't at my Danger Room session this morning?" Logan asked gruffly. Rogue might have been fuming, but he wasn't about to take shi– lip from anyone.

"Kit's… Unwell today, and I been kinda relyin' on her to wake me up for the last month or so," Rogue explained. Well, at least it was half the truth.

"You're lyin'," accused the Canadian. Of course he could smell when you weren't exactly telling it straight. Rogue made a mental note to torture from her mother the trick to evading that.

"Someone please just tell me where Kurt is?" she pleaded, although it sounded more to the others like a demand. It was just at that end of the polarised 'Rogue needs something and is now asking for it' scale.

"We don't know," Jean supplied, although Rogue was sure that she wouldn't remember anyway if it wasn't for all the wide open minds around for her to scrounge the information from. "He ported off right after we finished up the session."

"Shit," the power thief swore. Everyone gave her strange looks as though she'd just grown a speed demon out her bum.

"Hey-I-need-a-telepath-or-something-real-quick-like!" Then, you never know your luck. Well, Rogue was pretty sure hers was always bad.

She turned to face Pietro, and every feature of her spelled death, or at least serious maiming. "Why?"

"Wanda's-totally-unresponsive-I-mean-more-than-normal-even; Toad-can't-even-get-her-to-hurt-him."

Evan raised his eyebrows, oblivious to the fact that no-one could see them under his head's armour plating. "Sounds bad, man."

"Unresponsive, ya say?" asked Rogue, rolling her eyes at Spyke. "Have you tried yelling at her?"

"She-just-giggled," the speedster explained. "Please, I-really-need-help"

The southerner frowned. "Well, let's go then," she offered, causing Pietro to just look at her strangely. "Trust me, it'll be faster than any telepath," she hissed.

Pietro shrugged, figuring that if the Rogue offered help you took it, and they were off.

"Well, I'd better go and see what's wrong with Kitty," Hank sighed, wandering out of the room. "Although I'll wager her biggest problem right now is a minor case of Roguetucheritis."

"Roguetucheritis?" asked Scott and Jean together while Evan scratched the back of his head – a complicated procedure that involved extracting a spike from his arm and finding the hole in his armour at the bast of his skull, then cautiously moving the stick up and down inside.

"She got zapped by Rogue," replied Ororo and Logan in like.

Bobby, Tabby, Ray, Amara, Sam, and Jamie, who hadn't been paying much attention, looked at each other and shrugged, although Bobby did pass Tabitha a five behind their backs.

* * *

Meanwhile at the Brotherhood house, Mystique was meditating in her shower when she heard a muffled sound coming from her room. Expecting the worst, she liberated a gun from her ensuite vanity, and whipping on a towel, crept out the door.

There didn't seem to be anything unusual there. The shapeshifter was about to step back into the bathroom to dry herself off when a repeat of the same sound made her snap her head around to face a shadow in one corner of the room, and then another, and another, and another, and then the smell of brimstone was all around her.

"Hallo, Mutter," said a voice by her ear, surprising her so much that she dropped her gun. Two arms wrapped themselves around her and she felt the nauseating dizziness of suddenly being somewhere else, which coupled with an involuntary breath of sulphurous atmosphere, would have sent her reeling to the ground if it weren't for the strong arms holding her up.

Around the same time as this happened, Pietro landed in Wanda's room with Rogue in his arms. The southerner shook herself briefly, wriggling out of the speedster's grip. "Smooth ride," she said.

"Thanks," replied Pietro, and whether he'd missed the sarcasm or was just being obnoxious in return was a mystery to her.

"Yup, that looks like what I thought it was," Rogue said, looking down at her fellow Goth. Wanda was staring into space, giggling occasionally. However, the look of horror that had before been present was replaced by the same sparkle that had been in Kitty's eyes.

"And what-would-that-be?" Pietro asked.

"Wait and let me be sure," the southerner replied. She took the glove off her right hand, and walked toward Wanda.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa, what're-you-doing?" the speedster demanded, stepping in front of her.

"In the medical profession, they'd call it getting a sample," Rogue explained. "Now do you want me to find out what's wrong, or not?"

Pietro hesitated, but stepped aside. Rogue rested her hand on Wanda's forehead for a moment, but jumped back and held her head in her hands, groaning. "Why do I subject myself to this crap?" she moaned.

"Well? What-is-it?" asked Pietro, noticing that his sister's trance-like state had turned into a common Rogue-induced coma.

"Promise not to tell Magneto?" asked Rogue.

"Yeah-yeah, just what-is-it?" the speedster demanded.

"She's been raped," explained Rogue. "By my brother. Weird thing is, he forced her, but she ended up liking it…. Not at all like Kit, who gave in pretty much immediately. Then again, she has always had at least _some_ feelings for the little guy."

Pietro stepped back, his eyes wide. "You're kidding…." Suddenly, he turned and ran, but was stopped just as abruptly by a hex bolt.

"Ya promised," admonished Rogue, "now I don't want to have to get you for breaking it." She sucked the consciousness out of him anyway, just to be sure.

Walking out into the hallway, Rogue sniffed. There was definitely a familiar smell on the air. Determining it to have come from Mystique's room, she walked up to its foreboding portal, and rested her hand on the doorknob. Of course it was locked – when Rogue was with the Brotherhood, she'd been the only one allowed in there save Mystique herself. Now she knew why, although it wasn't a piece of information that made her happy. It hadn't made her particularly mad either though, at the time — only when the shapeshifter had betrayed her _again_ with Apocalypse did that piece of malice surface. Deciding not to dwell on her past, she phased through the door.

The scene struck her as odd, not because the room didn't have any of the furniture she remembered. Not because of the photo of Kurt and her on the bedside table – she'd expected that to have made its way here when it went missing from her own, or the countless other items that had to do with her brother and self. It was more that the ensuite door was left open, and in there was a scene of woman interrupted from the ritual of meditation under a stream of water. Also, the pistol on the floor was a sure sign that it was Mystique who had been caught by surprise. That was a bad sign in the least, and coupled with the lingering aroma of sulphur and brimstone, Rogue could only assume the worst. She'd thought this had something to do with Mystique, but not _that_. He wouldn't – Would he?

"Kurt, you idiot. Not Momma…."

* * *

Ha! I stop there. Ambiguous and evil, no? Next chapter will elaborate, Saxon's word.

¹I made that up on the spot. My sudden onset explanation is that in this Alternate Universe™, Stefan and Jimaine are still Kurt's foster siblings but Amanda isn't the same as Jimaine. Or then again, it could be something worse….

**Reviewers!**  
Thank you muchly **Kriszty** and also **thesinisterbra** (anonymous). Is that a bra you can operate left-handed, by the way? ;·P Thanks for commenting on the Kitty thing too.   
I wasn't sure how this one would go with the population. I judge from the lack of flames that you like it, but that could just mean the mass of people who don't are too polite….

Please leave a review. Please. Even if you don't like it and want to say something nasty… did I mention that I feed off reviews, flame and compliment alike, yet? Well, I do. Even things like 'You suck, asshat' will do (although I have little idea what an 'asshat' is… I think it's one of those things like Francis the Talking Mule used to wear…).

Hopefully you all understand about the disjoint first section now. Suggestions for who's point of view I should write one from will be considered (Although don't expect much more than 'Uhhhh… I have red hair. This is a story, I think, or was it– Ooh! Cute guy with sunglasses!' from you know whom).

Oh, I'll try to update my other stories soon (Truly Rogue and Mystical Children), but on top of it being the hectic month of the year, I've hit a double-barreled immediate circumstance writers' block on them. Just bear with me if you're hanging out for what happens next in those (or drop a review on chapter 4 of Truly Rogue if you want me to write it faster. I hate to plug my own writing, but I really do need the reviews on that one). 


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